


You Belong to Me, My Lady.

by EnjolrasAmy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Based on a tumblr RP starter of mine, F/M, Medieval Pirate, More characters and tags to come as I write the story and introduce more characters, Probably end up mad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnjolrasAmy/pseuds/EnjolrasAmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Marianne duPoint, a French noblewoman with revolutionary ideas, is captured while gathering information in the Port towns of France. Her captor, Pirate Captain Parellio, is a bounty hunter with a debt to Celtic WarLord Don Alliba. In order to pay off his debt, Parellio uses Marianne as payment, along with the other jewels his crew has captured. While a prisoner and slave of the Celts, Marianne both impresses and intimidates various members of the WarLord's tribe, constantly fighting to return home to Paris to further the Cause. But her help comes from a most unlikely source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Belong to Me, My Lady.

**Author's Note:**

> First real Original Work for a long, long time. Slow updates as ideas fluctuate and exams/dissertation are taking a priority, but I'll do my best to update as soon as I've got a decent chapter. Reviews and concrit are welcome. :)

**Wind. That was the first thing Marianne** heard as she slowly regained consciousness. Wind whistling through the trees. At least, she thought they were trees. And she was sure the gentle creaking was just the branches. It wasn’t until she felt gentle movement under her body like the rocking of waves hitting a ship that her suspicions started to become aroused. Opening her eyes slightly, she was confused. Surrounded by wooden panels. What happened? she thought to herself, her senses slowly coming back to her. Her long, wavy mid-brown hair hanging loose - tumbling into her eyes due to the hunched over position she found herself - annoyed her, and she tried to push it back from her eyes, behind her ears. But she couldn’t. Hearing the soft clink of chains and feeling the manacles around her wrists and ankles, her memory started to come back to her. Shit.

_It had started just like any normal day. Well, a normal day for any regular holiday-maker. But Marianne was hardly the regular holiday-maker. She had been around the coast of France, gathering news and support to take back to Paris the following week. Having spoken with many people and gathered a lot of support, she was making her way back to the inn she was staying in for lunch when she was approached by another man. He had asked her to come to a certain address that evening, for he had valuable information and supplies that she was welcome to use. As a gesture of goodwill, he had parted with some key information about the watch rotas on the sea watch towers, when they were likely to search ships. Some of this information matched what she had found out. Trusting him, she agreed to the deal._

_Arriving that night at the address, she was slightly uneasy at its remote location, but she figured it was more secure that way. It was the same thing she would do. Knocking and entering, smoothing down her red gown, wanting to make a good impression, she was welcomed with a warm, well lit room. The same man she’d spoken to earlier greeted her, introducing her to his companions. Accepting their offer of a drink as they discussed business, she had allowed the warmth and the drink to embrace her. And then everything went black._

As she thought back to the previous night, she groaned, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. She’d been drugged. And what if she was - even now - on her way back to Paris for trial and execution? But she had no idea that her situation was far more perilous. As the door opened, she kept her head stubbornly down, refusing to look up until her head was pulled back by a cruel hand yanking on her hair before clenching her upturned chin in a harsh grasp. Gasping in pain, she looked up at her captor, trembling.

 

Just as he’d planned, he now had a valuable hostage. She would be his ticket to wealth and comfort. While skulking around the docks, he had heard about her. A Lady of high birth, yet a traitor. Beautiful. Seductive. Having seen one of the rare portraits of her on the Wanted posters, and the size of the reward, he knew he had to have her. Although this particular Pirate Captain did not want her for the bounty from the law. No, he had his own plans for this rebellious traitor. But he did not know where she was. By all accounts, she was busy in Paris. But fate must have smiled on him at the start of this particular week.

_He had been up most of the night, trying to figure out how he was going to pay his debt to the Celtic WarLord Don Alliba. Gold was no use. He had more than enough, but the WarLord didn’t want it. No. Don Alliba wanted goods no money could buy. Beautiful women. Jewels. Slaves. Things that the Captain could not aquire easily. He had been given six months to gather suitable payment. Having raided a number of ships, he had enough jewels to placate the WarLord. But he lacked women, especially beautiful ones. Sure, there were plenty of women he could’ve taken, but they all lacked the beauty that comes from being pure and innocent. But then he had heard of the noble Traitor. Marianne duPont. From what he had heard of her reputation, and the extra digging he did, he knew her to be the jewel of all jewels to give to Don Alliba. He was about to give up hope after all reports confirmed her presence in Paris, until he heard by chance that a woman was asking questions. Questions that would be of particular use to a Revolutionary. Although no two descriptions were the same, the Captain was prepared to bet that it was her. And so he planned his trap._

_A mere three days later, he had his chance. Seeing her approaching the inn she was staying at, he pulled away from the wall and walked towards her, meeting her eye in a way that told her that he wished to talk.  
_ _“Marianne duPont? The rebel?” He asked quietly.  
_ _“Yes. What do you want? Make it quick. It’s not safe here.” She’d replied just as quietly. Taking her arm, the Captain walked a little way past the inn with her.  
_ _“My name is Captain Parellio. I may only have one ship under my control, but I hold sway over another five and their captains. I can smuggle cargo to La Rochelle and then onto Paris. Should you need anything brought in secret, I can get it to you.”  
_ _“I’m listening.” She replied after a moment.  
_ _“I can also ensure that it is not suspected or searched. The guards along the coast only check every one ship in ten, especially when they’re flying the French colours. I also know passwords that deflect questions, as they identify the Captain as one of the inner circle. But you’re right. It’s not safe here. Come to Rue de Garre at nine this evening. I own the only habitable building on the street. We can talk in safety there.”  
_ _“I’ll be there.” She assured him. Unhooking her arm, Marianne turned away from him, leaving him alone. When he was sure she was gone, he allowed a small smile to spread over his face._ I’ve got her. I’ve got her good. _He thought to himself. Heading back into the centre of town, he began his own preparations for that night._

_As he had expected, she was right on time. Ordering a few of his crew into the light of the fire, warning them not to drink the wine from the green bottle, he greeted her at the door. As she stood on his doorstep in the darkness, he couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Her already slim frame clenched tightly into a fashionable corset, in a gown the colour of rubies, with the slightest hint of decoration coming from black trimming… The effect was maddening. Taking note of the simple circlet of silver encircling her brow, Parellio realised that she’d gone back to her birth status, wanting to impress. All the better. The more regal she looked, the higher her value. Inviting her in, he introduced her to his crew. As they settled down to discuss business, each man there entranced by the curves over the top of Marianne’s bodice, they waited the time when the drug in the wine would take over her. They knew it wouldn’t be long. As soon as they were sure she was knocked out, they sprang into action. Binding her hands tightly behind her, Parellio and the men covered her body with sacking, carrying her out to the waiting cart, hauling her off to the waiting ship. Not trusting the men to leave her intact, Parellio himself supervised the crew as they chained the girl to the wall by her wrists and ankles. Dismissing them, he simply stood there, watching her. After a few minutes, his calloused hands found their way into the soft, silky hair of the detained woman, carefully unclasping the circlet. The last thing he wanted was for that to break. Although he longed to do more to her, he satisfied his desires by simple kissing and biting along her neck. She was unable to resist, so why not take advantage when he could? Leaving the girl alone to recover, he took the circlet to his chamber, locking the door behind him._

Looking upon the girl now as he re-entered the temporary brig, he smiled to himself. Striding over to her he sunk his hands into that wonderfully soft hair, clenching a clump tightly, pulling her head up to look at him. Using his other hand to grab her chin, he twisted her head in different directions, inspecting her carefully.  
“Aren’t you the pretty one? A pleasant sight to all sailors on this vessel. Oh yes, my dear, I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun on this voyage.”  
“Parellio.” Marianne spat, wrenching her chin from his tight grasp. Trying to shift her weight so she could kick him away, she winced as the chains prevented her moving her legs, only causing her to fall forwards, allowing the shackles to dig into her wrists. Laughing cruelly, he twisted his hands into her hair again, pushing her back upright, his crotch virtually in her face. Looking up at him in disgust, she had no time to react when he let go of her hair, using the hand to let out a resounding slap across her face. Her head snapping to the side with the force of the blow, she cried out in pain, her cheek flaring red. Bringing his hand around to the other side, he backhanded her. Only when she felt the blood trickling down from a cut in her cheek did she realise that he was wearing a number of sharp rings. Biting down hard on her lip, trying to not make any sound, having swiftly learned that staying quiet would protect her, she waited nervously, worried about his next move. Oddly, he didn’t appear to want to hurt her again. Interesting. Nervously, she ventured a question.  
“What am I doing here?”  
Turning on her, Parellio sneered. Bringing his hand up, as if to strike her again, Marianne trembled, only to have to fight for breath as his hand wrapped itself around her throat, his palm pushing the girl upright, adding a new wave of pain to her shoulders, already tired from being chained above her head. Looking into his eyes, panicking, trying to breathe, she let out a terrified whimper, muffled by the lack of breath in her body. He studied her closely, his eyes searching hers, before letting out a grunt and letting her go, not caring as she almost knocked herself out on the side of the ship.  
“Why would I tell you? It’s not like it would make any difference to your fate.”  
“If you’re taking me back to Paris, I warn you, I have friends there who will avenge me.”  
“Paris? Ha! No, the money they are offering for your capture is not enough, especially now I’ve seen your great beauty.” Stroking her cheek softly, his fingers tightened around her jaw, pulling her head up again. Lowering his face to her ear, his stubble prickling the soft skin of her cheek, he whispered quietly “My client will want your virginity. My crew know not to touch you. But I cannot promise your safety even here. Lady Marianne, you will never know freedom again. Apart from freedom like this…” Turning his face to kiss her cheek softly, his lips moved down her face and neck, kissing and biting her soft skin, his hand pushing on her breasts, pushing down her corset, squeezing them harshly. Crying out in shock, Marianne tried to strain against her bonds and pull away, but to no avail. Sobbing quietly, she let the man grope her, just wanting this to be over. His lust satisfied, Parellio stood, yanking her hair back so she was forced to look up at him. “We’ll be arriving in Ireland soon, my pretty. So just stay quiet and good and it may work out well for you.” Laughing cruelly, he let her go after pressing one more forceful kiss onto her lips, leaving her chained, crying quietly, awaiting her fate. Ireland. A new life in Ireland. And that scared her more than she’d let on. She’d heard tales about the Irish, tales that parents told their children at night to get them to behave. Closing her eyes, she sighed, trying to get some form of rest while she could, the lulling motion of the ship eventually sending her to sleep.


End file.
